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Friday, January 24, 2003
there's more to this situation.
that's what i keep telling myself to remain sane. but its rather difficult to constantly believe that "there's more to this situation" when i never get an explanation. whats the use of wondering whether or not it will all work out? but you say and you say "there's more to this situation" let's wait things out.
i dont know if i can wait any longer for a feeling of security. always being up in the air is cause for me to scream yell rant, but only at me. bc i care too much to tell you how i realy feel and i dont know whether or not screaming yelling ranting will help our ordeal
there's more to this situation is what i keep hearing. there's more to this situation is the only answer you give. but instead of explantaions i'm getting the run-a-round. instead of clarifications my heart wears a frown.
if there's more to this situation i'd like to know. whether or not i should stay or i should go. bc i know the theory that everything in life is temporary. great theory in theory, but difficult in practice. if there's more to this situation then i'd like to know. perhaps prep myself for when you tell me we're through or to avoid any heartache, wander off on my own.
there's more to this situation is not a sufficent answer anymore. you need to tell me now, you need to update the score. bc i'm not going to wait much longer and smile and fake calmness and ponder. this statement of yours. this ambivalent protection of words. there's more to this situatioin is rather absurd. bc it only protects you. apparently your the only one. who understands what this more to this situation entails and shuns. id rather not be left in the dark in this and hold such trepidations. you better tell me soon or i'm out. so long to this "there's more to this situation"
lainey 9:31 AM
Saturday, December 28, 2002
fictional rant...
my whole life i've realized that everything is a lie, a con for the taking
there's a sucker born everyday according to some quote, in some book, or some move, some where.
and i've come to the conclusion that i will not be the sucker but the con.
and why not?
sure i could go my way through life and make my bones the "right" way
"right makes right" according to lincoln
well lincoln got shot in the head for his supposed "right"
and i perfer not to go down like that
perhaps all the good stories about cons arent known bc well...
cons keep to themselves, live there lives as comfortably as possibly and well
they dont get caught.
if you could walk into a store and take whatever you wanted and leave without paying, would you do it?
what's the point of monetary exchange for goods really?
to survive i need food and i need shelter.
well if i need food, i should be able to go anywhere and take it. why the fuck should i pay? its my "right" to survive isn't it?
if i need clothes to survive why can't i just go and take it from the store that they are held in? that also is included in my "right" to survive right?
if all the people in the world decided to denounce the cash/monetary system that we have relegated to what would occur?
i think madness would occur for quite some time
i think people would loot and riot for quite some time
and when the dust settled
i think someone would have to emerge to tell the people, to remind them of their "rights" to survive
and maybe then...we could live in this world in this country without poverty without abundantly rich people
maybe we could live in this country... with out
but who am i kidding
i live in one of the most consumer capitalist countries in the entire world
i live in one of the most influential countries that attempts to infultrate healthy countries with their obese mentality
i live in one of the most materialist countries that emphasizes happiness by goods rather than health and friends and family
i live in one of the most self centered countries that thinks the entire universe revolves around them and would totally be knocked off its socks if one day the entire global economy was dependent on the philippines
i live in the grand US of A
and honestly...i wouldnt have it any other way
bc where else could a con be a con
and a sucker be a sucker
but in a consumer capitalist nation that promotes "right" with the might dollar
and punishes those who scoff at the system only bc they didnt think of it first.
yes, this is my country and i'm gonna stick to it
will i be a con?
or
will i be a sucker?
whatever choice i make at least i have the good ol US of A to have my back
lainey 12:08 PM
Thursday, December 12, 2002
a lot of things can happen in a typical week
to make the typical become extrordinary
and the extrordinary, amazing
one fresh of breath aire into lungs that couldnot breathe
one analysis into thinking everything is like a hyperbole
and the hyperbole, personification
lainey 8:51 PM
Monday, November 11, 2002
family firing squad (one big happy family)
It was a typical family party for Filipino standards. The dining table was cluttered with several dishes. Each family had brought a dish, but a many of the dishes were made by her uncle. He was a funny man with a good heart. He also had a coming voice that could scare and calm you.
As she walked in the door she was met by her aunties faces. They were sitting in the living room that was usually never occupied. She made her rounds of kissing them and allowed herself to be belittled whilepaying respect to them.
::kiss:: “Hello Tita…” There were so many of them she always forgot their names at these parties.
::kiss/sniff:: “Hello ‘day…wow you’re so DARK!” The little girl grimaced. She knew it was coming, but it never got any easier.
::kiss:: “Hello Tita Carla…” This was her godmother, so she made it a point to remember her name. She didn’t really understand why Tita Carla was so important. Tita Carla was just another auntie to her, but her mom kept telling her she was important.
::kiss/sniff:: “Hello Darling…you’re so healthy now!” The little girl faked a smile. Even though it wasn’t directly something mean; she knew the tone of Tita Carla’s voice was a complaint. The little girl was a tomboy and had spent many afternoons riding bikes, playing kickball and football in the street with the other neighborhood kids. She wasn’t dainty and flimsy like the other girls in class. There were muscles in her arms and legs, and she ahd a little belly that was common in her kids her age.
::kiss:: “Hello Tita Lyn…” She braced herself for the worse. Tita Lyn was the oldest auntie and she just so happened to be the meanest.
::kiss/sniff:: “Hello Iha,” Tita Lyn paused and looked the little girl up and down. She waited for her aunt’s critique. Tita Lyn never framed her comments in a positive manner. “You’re hair is so kinky now. You don’t have nice hair like your mom.”
The little girl nodded in consent and she started to walk away.
“Hoy. Ang higante ng puet mo!”
She stopped in her tracks. Although she didn’t speak tagalog she understood what Tita Lyn said. “Hey your butt’s getting big!”
Tears of anger filled her eyes. She paused. If she had been on the playground she would’ve smaked her aunt in the face, but she knew she couldn’t do that. Tita Lyn was family and plus she was ancient compared to the little girl.
“Cathy!” The little girl heard the booming voice of her uncle. She looked up and saw her uncle’s face. “Come here ‘day.”
She left her snickering aunties and walked up to her uncle who was in the kitchen frying chicken.
“Yes Tito Boy?” She was still a little rattled from the auntie firing squad.
He smiled at her. He knew what she had just gone through. The family firing squad had attacked him years ago. Tito Boy wasn’t like most of the uncle’s and auntie’s in the family. He was a smart guy, but in the Philippines his family had been poor. They weren’t rich, but they were talented. His dad, brothers, and sisters could sing in harmony at a moments notice. Although they had never took formal music lessons, many of his siblings, including himself, could play the piano or the guitar with ease.
The family firing squad had attacked him when he married his wife. He wasn’t a professional like them, but he worked hard. He was a “Mr. Fix-it” and could make any electrical, car, or plumbing problem go away. He loved his wife and his family. He never forgot the comments that the firing squad made. It fueled him to raise his kids right. They always had enough and although his kids complained, he knew they had all they needed.
Tito Boy’s children were 4 boys and Cathy. Cathy went to the same elementary school with Tommy, Mikey, Jon-boy, and Teddy. Cathy was the middle kid, older than Jon-boy, but younger than Mike. The 5 of them would go to school together in the morning and played together in the afternoon. On the playground the 5 of them knew to look out for each other.
Sometimes it would be hard because Cathy always had 4 other boys looking over her shoulder.
She was in that stage when little girls start to get crushes and she couldn’t exactly vent to the boys. Cathy didn’t play with barbies with other little girls, instead she played football in the street and rode bikes to the local comic book store. She never thought that the fact that her uniform was a jumper and her cousins wore polo’s and slacks made any difference. She never thought about that until her aunties picked on her.
“Here you go.” Tito Boy handed her a freshly fried drumstick. “Be careful. It’s hot.”
“Thank you Tito Boy.” She bit into the chicken and had to leave her mouth open because the heat was too much for her 10 year old mouth to bare.
“Ha. Told you it was hot!”
She chewed on the delicious piece of chicken. Tito Boy was one of the best cooks she knew. She smiled as she swallowed the crispy chicken.
”It’s good Tito Boy!”
“Of course it is! I made it.” His conceit was all in jest. Tito Boy was good friends with her dad and practically was a 2nd dad to her. She spent so much time at his house because both her parents worked such long hours.
“All done.” She smiled and put the chicken bone in the trash bag that was hanging from the dishwasher.
“The boys are outside. Why don’t you go play?”
“Ok Tito Boy. Thanks.”
She turned and as she walked through the garage door and into the driveway to play, she glanced at her aunties. They looked like lions sharpening their claws, waiting for their next victim to come in. Then she looked at her Tito Boy, who had just saved her from them. She knew that they were all family and at the end of the day she loved them all. But she vowed she wouldn’t turn into that cold-hearted auntie who took pleasure in belittling people and chismed all the time. She would always remember her Tito Boy’s kindness and try to be as good a person as he was.
The warm sunlight greeted her as she opened the door. There were kids running around everywhere.
“Hey Cathy!”
“Hi Jon-boy…”
“We’re playing 21, you want in?”
Her aunties would have discouraged her from playing because she’d get dark from being in the sun, or get bigger muscles from playing, or her hair would get messy, or her butt would get bigger from running around. Her uncle would have wanted her to play, have fun, and just be a kid.
Mike dribbled the basketball impatiently, “Well?” Jon-boy looked at her too, “Come on Cathy…” Teddy was the baby and didn’t play basketball. He simply sat on the lawn, content with picking at grass with the other munchkins. Tommy paused, he was talking to the other teenage cousins who were sneaking sips of beer and had just come back from a cigarette break.
“Sure, It’ll be easy kicking your butt anyway Mikey.” She stepped up to him and swatted the ball away from him.
“You’ve got no handles Mikey!” She smirked.
“My money’s on Cathy.” Tommy shouted. He winked at the little cousin who was the closest thing he had to a sister.
“HEY!” Mikey laughed, “Dude I’M your BROTHER!”
“Yeah and she’s my cousin and she’s better than you at ball.”
She and Mikey laughed, while Jon-boy waited for the game to start.
“Are we gonna play or what?” came out of Jon-boy as he stood underneath the backboard.
She faked left and then crossed-over right for the easy lay up.
“Two.”
They played into the evening and lost track of who won or lost. As they walked into the house the family firing squard looked upon Cathy, Jon-boy, and Mikey with disgust.
Mikey was the blunt one and hated the glares they were giving them.
“Maganda gabi titas.”
They were so impressed with his use of tagalong.
“Oh Mikey! You speak tagalog. That’s so impressive.”
“Yeah, which also means that I understand it when you guys are talking shit…I mean tsismesing about me, my brothers, and Cathy.”
They glanced at him with horror, which quickly transfigured into daggers.”
“See you later Titas. Come on Jon-boy, Cathy, let’s go in my room and play video games.”
Cathy and Jon-boy nervously waved bye at the dagger eyes and fake smiles and then walked into Mikey and Tommy’s room.
“I can’t believe you just did that Kuya.”
Mikey laughed. “Yeah neither can I, but they needed someone to stick it to them. They’re bitches. Dad told me what they did to you Cathy. Sorry.”
“What? What happened Cathy?”
She looked at Mikey and was about to cry. She was so thankful. She plopped on the bed and sat next to Mikey. She grabbed the controller and stared as the Contra logo popped up.
“Up up down down a b a….SHIT! I forgot. You remember it right Jon-boy?”
“Yeah, just gimme the controller. Cathy, What happened?” He asked as he put in the secret code for infinite lives on Contra.
“Eh, it was just the titas being the titas.”
“Ah, yeah they did that to me earlier today. Man that Tita Lyn is cold. She kept saying how I’m getting fat in the belly. What the hells her problem, I’m a 9 year old kid, you know?” Jon-boy stoop up, “Shit I died already…”
“Dude gimme the controller, you were only supposed to put in the code!” Mikey grabbed the small gray and black controller from Jon-boy’s hands.
“Here you can play for me Jon-boy. I suck anyways.” And she handed him the controller.
“Thanks Cathy.”
She sat and watched them play. She knew that the aunties were family and that she had to love them no matter what, but Jon-boy, Mikey, Tommy, Tito Boy, and even baby Teddy were really the family she could depend on. The sounds from the game on the screen started lulling her to sleep. She felt a calm flush over as she was with two of them.
“Ah come on Jon-boy. You’re killing me here!”
“Shut up Kuya. You’re not playing any better.”
They both looked at Cathy who had slipped into sleep.
They smiled at each other and played on.
“That was really nice of you Kuya.”
“What? Saving your ass from all these dudes in the game? Jon-boy, I have to. Man Cathy plays better than you…”
“No MIKEY. THAT was really nice of you.”
Mikey paused as he let his brother’s words resonate in him.
“You know I don’t like it when you don’t call me ‘kuya.’”
“MIKEY!” Jon-boy was getting frustrated with his older brother.
“I’m just kidding. I understand. WE’RE family Jon-boy. WE gotta look out for each other.”
“Yeah but the titas are family too.”
“Yeah they are, but if they think I’m gonna let them push around MY cousin, they’re wrong.”
“Oh crap, man I keep dying! Yeah I know what you mean Kuya.”
“We’re just one big happy family. Dude Jon-boy! I’m gonna wake up Cathy and tell her to play for you soon!”
Jon-boy laughed, “Sorry Kuya. Yeah we’re just one big happy family.”
lainey 8:28 PM
Friday, November 08, 2002
the most updated draft...
untitled and unfinished
"I told you not till Thursday. I can’t make it up there until then." she shouted into her cell phone as she walked to her corner office. The door flew open and hands emerged from nowhere with manila folder files. "the Hanson account needs to be finished by Friday and the 3m people are on line 2, your mom is on line 1, and Tony is on line 3" a hurried secretary in wrinkled navy suit hustles behind the manic female shouting on the cell phone. "I can’t pick up and leave here. You know that! Don’t pull that bullshit on me Ryan. I’ll be there by Thursday. Bye" she pulled the earpiece out and tossed her cell on the desk. A pile of papers were everywhere; reports, proposals, magazines, notebooks. She was a scatterbrained success. "tell 3m ill call them later for the conference call, the Hanson account was done last night, tell my mom ill have lunch with her at 1pm and tell Tony to fuck off I’m not talking to him today." she handed her secretary the Hanson account folder from the stack of mess on her desk. The wrinkly secretary walked off and shut the door behind her.
The mess on her desk was like the mess she made of everything, everything but work. If there was one thing she did right it was work. Reports were always on time, although her colleagues never understood how she could get anything done in her mess of an office. She turned her computer on and stared at the screen as the windows icon popped up. Her life was work. It was the only thing that made sense to her. Her personal life was a mix-match of lost lovers, hurt family members, and numb friends. The men in her life came and went as fast as she prattled off dictation to her secretary. Her family was concerned about her lack of involvement with anything that concerned people who resembled a mother, father, brother, sister, aunt, uncle, and cousin type person. And her friends had come to the point of not asking her to go out anymore because they were sick and tired of her flaking on them.
Her high school reunion was that Friday night. The person she had been yelling on the phone with, Ryan was her best friend since the fourth grade. Throughout all the years Ryan was the only connection she had left to the happy and content person from the past. They practically went through everything together. Their friendship started as school kids with crushes on each other, which turned into a friendship based on their mutual love of Saturday cartoons, games of handball, spitting contests, and really of each other.
She turned and stared at her reflection in the window. She felt numb. There’s a relapse going on in her now. A relapse to a time in college where she felt numb even though hundreds of people would stop and say hi to her. The cigarette breaks with friends weren't enough to make her numbness go away. That was why she was involved in nearly everything she could get her hands on. It allowed her to ignore this feeling of being numb.
But that was college and this is now...now she was all growns up with a corner office with a window of her own, a house fully paid for, and a luxury vehicle in the parking lot waiting for her. She was the epitome of success, but not what the granola guru's would call "happiness."
she opened her purse and reached for the silver cigarette case resting inside. The case had been a gift from Ryan. Although he didn’t approve of her smoking habit, he knew that it was the perfect gift for her. It was their second year of college and she had just joined a sorority. It never really was her thing and she eventually dropped out of it a year later, but she figured she'd try at least anything once. She needed a formal date and really didn’t want to scrounge the frat boy barrel, so she called up Ryan and begged him to be her date to the formal. Pulling the best friend card led to her getting a date.
Luckily Ryan went to the same school as her. When they were seniors and went through the motions of the college application process they picked the same schools, filled out the same applications, and got the same acceptance letters. She had thought about picking up and leaving their little town all together. But Ryan talked her out of it. He knew that her family couldn’t afford her going to college out of state.
So they took the same general classes they're first two years together. They didn’t live in the same dorm, but Ryan was right next door. When their freshman year was over they lived in apartments next to each other. All their friends thought that they'd hook up by now. But they were "just friends." no one else seemed to understand that they had grown up together and that that they were childhood friends.
But maybe they were right.
The night of the formal she was dressed in a black strapless dress that emphasized the figure that she kept hidden under t-shirts and jeans. All he had to do to pick her up was knock on the door next door. Convenient living next to your best friend. Ryan knocked on the door only to hear the usual shout of "OPEN!" they never made it to the formal. They had been best friends since fourth grade and they woke up the next morning in each others arms.
And that was the last time that they ever let that happen. They were best friends and nothing more. Although she knew that Ryan loved her, she couldn’t bring herself to letting anyone in that close. So after months of uneasiness and weirdness, they returned to their best friend label. And everyone shook their heads at it all because they all knew that they were made for each other.
Friends would ask Ryan why he never just asked her out. Ryan kept silent and never pushed the subject. Ryan understood that what the two of them had was unique. He secretly hoped that one day she would wake up and realize that what they had was perfect. When she would complain to him about her current lover situation he would cringe at her voice as she described the latest shortcomings of the newest man in her life. He knew that she never complained about their night together. Ryan knew that he was the only person in her life that never let her down. He was the only person in her life who was able to calm her down when her bullshit got the best of her. He also knew that somewhere inside of her, she was in love with him too.
She put the cigarette to her mouth and lit it with the latest Bic lighter she had purchased from the gas station that morning. She knew that it was a non-smoking office building, but she didn’t care. It was a good thing she had the corner office. The smell resonated in the walls and the other offices surrounding her were unoccupied. With no one to complain about the smoke; this led to her smoking in her office. She watched her reflection as she slowly inhaled her cigarette. She had a made a game out of watching herself smoke. In college she would watch her shadow inhale and exhale the nicotine, pondering whether or not her shadow felt the comfort of the smoke just as much as she did. She exhaled and watched pieces of herself float into the air. As the smoke rose into the room she could see memories of herself in the smoke, happy days of dimly lit pubs, late night conversations over cups of coffee, and nights of sitting at the beach staring at the waves as they crashed upon the shore.
Thoughts of her high school reunion began to creep into her mind. Those were memories she didn’t want to relive, but Ryan had convinced her into going. Ryan had worked his way up the film studio ladder and was one of the top editors in the business. He was continuously swamped with projects, but he never seemed to let his hectic schedule get to him. He tried to get her to realize that there was more to life than the office she cherished. He knew that that would be a tough battle because she was epitome of stubbornness.
lainey 9:33 AM
Wednesday, November 06, 2002
untitled and unfinished
"i told you not till thursday. i cant make it up there until then." she shouted into her cell phone as she walked to her corner office. the door flew open and hands emerged from nowhere with manila folder files. "the hanson account needs to be finished by friday and the 3m people are on line 2, your mom is on line 1, and tony is on line 3" a hurried secretary in wrinkled navy suit hustles behind the manic female shouting on the cell phone. "i cant pick up and leave here. you know that! dont pull that bullshit on me ryan. i'll be there by thursday. bye" she pulled the earpiece out and tossed her cell on the desk. a pile of papers were everywhere; reports, propsals, magazines, notebooks. she was a scatterbrained success. "tell 3m ill call them later for the conference call, the hanson account was done last night, tell my mom ill have lunch with her at 1pm and tell tony to fuck off i'm not talking him today." she handed her the hanson account folder from the stack of mess on her desk. the wrinkly secretary walked off and shut the door behind her.
the mess on her desk, was like the mess she made of everything, everything but work. if there was one thing she did right it was work. reports were always on time, although her colleagues never understood how she could get anything done in her mess of an office. she turned her computer on and stared at the screen as the windows icon popped up. her life was work. it was the only thing that made sense to her. her personal life was a mixmatch of lost lovers, hurt family members, and numb friends. the men in her life came and went as fast as she prattled off dictation to her secretary. her family was concerned about her lack of involvement with anything that concerned people who resembled a mother, father, brother, sister, aunt, uncle, cousin type person. and her friends had come to the point of not asking her to go out anymore because they were sick and tired of her flaking on them.
her high school reunion was that friday night. the person she had been yelling on the phone with, ryan, was her best friend since the fourth grade. throughout all the years ryan was the only connection she had left to the happy and content person from the past. they practically went through everything together. their friendship started as schoolkids with crushes on each other, which turned into a friendship based on their mutual love of saturday cartoons, games of handball, spitting contests, and really each other.
she turned and stared at her reflection in the window. she feels numb. there's a relapse going on in her now. a relapse to a time in college where she felt numb even though hundreds of people would stop and say hi to her. the cigarette breaks with friends weren't enough to make her numbness go away. that was why she was involved in nearly everything she could get her hands on. it allowed her to ignore this feeling of being numb.
but that was college and this is now...now she was all growns up with a corner office with a window of her own, a house fully paid for, and a luxury vehicle in the parking lot waiting for her. she was the epitomy of success, but not what the granola guru's would call "happiness."
she opened her purse and reached for the silver cigarette case resting inside. the case had been a gift from ryan. although he didnt approve of her smoking habit, he knew that it was the perfect gift for her. it was their second year of college and she had just joined a sorority. it never really was her thing and she eventually dropped out of it a year later, but she figured she'd try at least anything once. she needed a formal date and really didnt want to scrounge the frat boy barrel, so she called up ryan and begged him to be her date to the formal. pulling the best friend card led to her getting a date.
luckily ryan went to the same school as her. when they were seniors and went through the motions of the college application process they picked the same schools, filled out the same applications, and got the same acceptance letters. she had thought about picking up and leaving their little town all together. but ryan talked her out of it. he knew that her family couldnt afford her going to college out of state.
so they took the same general classes they're first two years together. they didnt live in the same dorm, but ryan was right next door. when their freshman year was over they lived in apartments next to each other. all their friends thought that they'd hook up by now. but they were "just friends." no one else seemed to understand that they had grown up together and that that they were childhood friends.
but maybe they were right.
the night of the formal she was dressed in a black strapless dress that emphasized the figure that she kept hidden under tshirts and jeans. all he had to do to pick her up was knock on the door next door. convienent living next to your best friend. ryan knocked on the door only to hear the usual shout of "OPEN!" they never made it to the formal. they had been best friends since fourth grade and they woke up the next morning in each others arms.
and that was the last time that they ever let that happen. they were best friends and nothing more. although she knew that ryan loved her, she couldnt bring herself to letting anyone in that close.
lainey 12:17 AM
Tuesday, November 05, 2002
monologue for something [just done know what yet]
so i thought i told you that it was over? why are you here hanging around and not letting me move on? what's going on homie? i thought we left that "thing" in the past because we're friends right? right?? i dont want to deal with the trials and tribulations of dealing with a relationship with you, with anyone. i dont think i have the capacity for dealing with anything right now. there's too much going on right now for me to even think of starting up "a thing" with someone. its fun being with you and talking to you, but forserious do you really think this would ever work? hmm i dunno man.
and plus...well plus...i'm diggin on someone else now. but for some strange reason there's something tugging at my strings feeling guilty about it because you're still around. what exactly is that? i dont think either you or me could answer that question.
you see, there's this new guy who's come around. well not really come around. but i think he's something nice, something sweet. and although i know that most likely nothing will happen because i'm such a chickenshit. and because i got hurt before, who knows. i'll let myself daydream about him, and well...not you.
i dont know what else to tell you. i dont know if what i'm seeing in your eyes is real or an attribute of my avid imagination. but i wish...well i wish i saw it in his eyes and not yours.
lainey 9:22 PM
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